


Quetzal-coats!

by tiersein



Series: Helichoidal [2]
Category: Dinotopia - James Gurney
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:36:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiersein/pseuds/tiersein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saul might be an odd match for Tarmac but he sure can babysit. The year is 1851, nine years before the arrival of the Denison dolphinbacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quetzal-coats!

Egelagi could feel the tension mounting with every broad downward sweep of his Vinland's sun-splashed wings; the apprentice rider wiped sweat from his eyes and pressed low in the saddle to keep below the unpredictable canyon winds. They'd been nearly two years in Sauropolis, Vinland well fed and Egelagi crisply uniformed, far from the difficult aerial maneuvers required by the Pteros Rookery approach.

His anxiety was as much apprehension as concern for Vinland's flight skill; Vinland had taken a mate, a delicate solitary bax called Cathedral, who had sent word by messenger bird only the previous day to pass on the good news. Egelagi knew skybax were not the most doting parents, giving as they did their young to the rookery community only a few short days after hatching, but Cathedral was reportedly extremely jealous in brooding over her two eggs, which would be another three weeks to breaking at least. Long enough for Egelagi to take a break in the heights of Pteros, take in a concert, and generally relax after the fierce politics of the Dinotopian capital -- and long enough for Vinland to exult in the notion of hatchlings

Vinland finally seized a thermal and ascended above the plateau, finally bringing the evening fires of Pteros Rookery into view. Egelagi felt some of his apprehension ease; he'd been away so long, and admittedly often by choice. What did they think of him now?

His mood was further lifted by a parade of small, delighted pterosaurs who arrived with glad chirps and proceeded to show the way through the buffeting winds. Finally, at last, Vinland alighted on the sheltered platform and tucked his wings back, chortling contentedly to himself. Apprentice Egelagi straightened up, his back audibly protesting, and pushed back his goggles to look around.

They'd landed on the single well-lit night arrival platform, the brass nut-oil lamps giving off a rich, roasted scent that reached in and twisted Egelagi's heart, bringing back all the memories of training, of landings, of conversations by nut-oil in the heights as he worked his way from plains-born herder boy to mounted flier-diplomat. He wondered what else would strike him so strongly, and then he couldn't help but worry that he'd be an outsider to the rest of them, gone too long, and perhaps not even one of them to start.

A brown-skinned, black-haired, blue-clad master rider stepped out from beneath the arched entryway, holding up an arm to fend off under the swirling fair of sinopterus winging in around them -- but at a stern word from the man, his gold breastplate shining in the reflected lamplight, the sinopterus promptly settled into the many surrounding niches and started up an irritating chattering.

Egelagi looked down, schooling his face into mild but distracted interest, and unstrapped himself from Vinland's saddle so he could step down to solid ground. His skybax shuffled from foot to foot with anticipation so Egelagi reached around to unbuckle the neckrope. His attention so caught, with the wind also whistling in his ears, he was taken completely by surprise when the master appeared at his elbow.

"Good evening, apprentice. Would you mind moving inside so the next can land? I'm afraid we're already late for dinner and he's circling." The master gave a nod to the open sky behind Egelagi, who looked up sharply, taking the comment as criticism -- but, of course, he knew he was overreacting. He was distracted, that was all. Thinking of other things. But now he had to finish the unsaddling now to be sure it wouldn't just come undone as Vinland shuffled inside.

"Absolutely, sir. Just a moment." He finished the fingers deft from muscle memory, and patted Vinland, barely able to give the master another look... just very aware, certainly, of the circling skybax that battled the wind out in the dark, waiting for him to finish.

When he did, and Vinland had shuffled only a few feet more, a massive skybax landed with an audible crack of its wings on the platform behind him. Egelagi and Vinland hurried in but turned to look, and Egelagi found himself struck dumb as a much older man, lean and white-haired with a face at least in its seventies, hoisted kneed up and hopped down. He wore only a simple brown outfit of the ground, the nonflying, and Egelagi knew he'd never seen him before. The bax, neither.

Master Caesilla at Sauropolis would have any station rider put out on a week's worth of watching the waves break if he'd ever had the nerve to take flight out of uniform. Even here, so far from the ever-jealous eyes of the Dinotopian capital, what was to separate winged from wingless? What kept the one from thinking they could just leap aboard themselves? Appearances! he could hear her snap, as surely as if she were standing right in front of him. We are far from the canyon walls and the heeded voices of the winged. Never doubt that clothes make a flier here.

"Are you -- that is to say, I beg your pardon, sirs. I've been two years in Sauropolis. Is it common to fly out of uniform?"

The white-haired man, woven saddle under his arm, rubbed his face on his sleeve and smirked. "Sauropolis, eh?"

"Don't tease, Saul," said the other, the blue-clad master, and the two men embraced for a moment, Egelagi forgotten.

"How are you, Balam?"

"Superb. Ixchel will have your head, of course. I told her dinner by nightfall and it's well past now. She's been at the hearth since mid-afternoon and it's a good walk to our apartments. Kaak can't wait to see you."

"How is he now?"

"Ha! I'm sure he's part bax, flinging himself about."

"As you were yourself, when you had a year to your name."

The men grinned and would have turned away, Egelagi truly forgotten, but for the arrival of a woman with the same round-faced, brown-eyed complexion of the master rider. Many mother Maya, if Egelagi were to guess, and likely the aforementioned Ixchel. He looked back at Vinland and chirruped warmly to calm his partner, who was ignoring the other bax while looking ready to fling himself at the corridor beyond.

"Vinland, is that you, you charmer?"

Egelagi started, even as Vinland turned and chirruped a delighted greeting, and shuffled forward to nearly knock her over with .

"Ma'am?"

The woman gave all three men a warm smile from around the bax's beak. "Saul, I'm glad to see Tarmac hasn't had any effect on your tardiness." The man grinned, unrepentant. "And Egelagi, is it?" At Egelagi's subdued affirmation, she beamed at the skybax. "I heard he finally deigned to choose but I'm afraid I'm rarely in the city proper. I always wonder how my fledges will turn out."

"Yes, ma'am."

"The boys've been in Sauropolis, Ixchel," Saul said wryly. "Minding their manners. I gave him a start, coming in as I do."

Ixchel's eyes softened and she left Vinland to approach Egelagi, taking one of his hands in both her own. "You'll soon adjust, my dear. We aren't so concerned with formality and presentation as we must do in the capital. You're home now."

"Regardless," Egelagi protested, feeling his experience quite belittled. "Protocol--"

"Oh, protocol," Ixchel replied, dismissing what he felt really was very valid input, thank you, with a wave. "Look here, Vinland. They aren't to hatch in the next wingbeat and you're doing you nor your rider any good by fretting." To Egelagi she added, "I'm rookery mother in this tower. You'll want to go up to Cathedral right away."

"Well, of course!" Egelagi looked at her like she'd grown a third head; the accusation that he'd do anything else was completely uncalled for, but he couldn't find the words as she gave him directions up the hall. "But do you mean to say you all fly without uniform? However do we know who's baxed?"

"Oh, Tarmac's not mine." Saul snorted with amusement -- derision, to Egelagi's ears -- and threw the lanky bax an easy salute. "He's his own man, makes his own choices."

"You're just his fancy of the week," the other master teased.

"Sometimes I think you're right."

"Then, sir--" Egelagi turned to the uniformed master. "Do you share? Appearances or not, it's unthinkable in Sauropolis."

Both men chuckled then, and the bax made a snorkling sound. "Many, many understandable things are quite unthinkable in Sauropolis."

Egelagi flushed, feeling quite alienated. Things were different from quadrant to quadrant, surely, but how could you tell a master if not for his uniform?

"Come now, gentlemen," Ixchel cut in, giving them a warning look. "Stop teasing the boy. He's about to be a father--"

"But you are a master rider...?" Egelagi pressed Saul, speaking over her, unable to drop the subject.

Saul snorted, shaking his head. "Oh, by Altair, no. I'm not ranked, lad. Never been properly trained, neither. That's why they keep me out of sight, like an old mad uncle in the attic. Now move on, would you? Vinland's lady awaits."

Egelagi couldn't think of any way to save face but he also couldn't help feeling like an errant child shooed away from a secret as he followed Vinland's awkward steps past them and up the tight, spiraling corridor. His big bax was usually quite sensitive to Egelagi's moods but just then Vinland only had eyes for the path, and then for Cathedral, and finally, finally, when they stepped inside the stifling air of the hot room, for the two smooth speckled red eggs in the soft nest beneath her.

 

Saul sighed happily as he stepped inside the Atlacatl apartments, his confrontation with the Sauropolian apprentice chased away by a savory whiff of chile tamales. Balam went to change into something less formal and Ixchel went directly to the oven.

"It smells wonderful," Saul called after her, slipping off his sandals. The small apartment, tastefully decorated, reminded him keenly of the many dinners he and Lilya had spent here, drinking sweet wine and talking late into the night. And now she had left him, after his nestfriend Latikaik had passed on, and Balam would be off in the morning to serve his promotion duty, and Saul wasn't sure Tarmac even noticed him, really, when all was said and done.

A child's gurgling from the bedroom caught his attention and Saul turned away from the living room, shaking away his ghosts.

"Here he is..." Balam announced, carrying Kaak and followed by their usual babysitter, a light-skinned young redhead who covered a yawn with one hand. He was an apprentice search and rescue rider called Pharot who'd come to learn from Master Farem, and who'd taken an immediate shine to Kaak.

"Saul," Kaak said loudly, turning to hold out his arms. He was a heavy baby still, with Ixchel's rounder face and dark skin crossed with his father's cap of dark, thick curls and, of course, a skybax rider's propensity to conquer and then fling himself from high places. Saul exchanged grins with Balam and took the boy, who flung his arms around Saul's neck and sighed happily.

"Hullo, Saul," Pharot said shyly.

"You sleeping enough there?" Saul asked, batting Kaak's hand away as the boy tried to rub his whiskers. "You look exhausted."

"Well, I sure didn't expect to babysit on such short notice," Pharot replied, but with a wan smile. He certainly didn't look put out; living two doors down had him well-accustomed to a quiet knock at odd hours. He surely knew there'd be more inconvenient knocks now that Balam was to fly training with Master Oolu.

"You're more than welcome to stay for dinner, Pharot. Saul won't give you a hard time." Ixchel placed the crockery on the table and pulled off her mittens, shooting Saul a pointed look. "We'd expected you to be on time, you know."

"Oh, that's hardly my fault!" Saul protested. "Isn't that right?" he asked Kaak, who replied with some incomprehensible but emphatic opinion. "There, you see? He says nobody should ever depend on me."

"Quezal," Kaak said loudly, looking proud of himself. "Quezal-coats!"

Ixchel poked her head out of the kitchen. "You teach him that one, Pharot?" she asked, but the apprentice's sudden peal of laughter was all the answer she needed.

"Come sit, all of you." Balam settled cross-legged onto a thin, zigzag-patterned cushion and patted the fatter pillow next to him. "Come on, Kaak."

"Da," Kaak said happily, and attempting to fling himself out of Saul's arms again. Saul caught Pharot's grin and rolled his eyes, handing Kaak to Balam and then clapping Pharot supportively on the back as they settled in for dinner.

"He'll be a skybax rider, all right."

"Hmm." Ixchel watched Balam scoop Kaak into his lap before reaching for the serving spoon. "And will you be as well, Saul? Pass me your plate."

"If Tarmac will have me. I confess I've no idea where I stand with him, but I don't have the faintest clue what he gains by leading me on."

"Farem said he's been more chipper since he started letting you on," Pharot said thoughtfully through a mouthful of beans and tortilla.

Saul made a noncommittal noise and accepted the small plate of cactus fruit. "We'll see how it works out." He paused and looked solemnly at Balam. "I think we both will."

"Truer words," Ixchel interrupted. "We're thinking of moving to Canyon City with Balam, you know. Give it a half-year to see if the aerial council will confirm his instructors' post and then we can find a small place. Kaak needs more little ones his own age and there's a music tutor who has a gift for working with flier children." She smiled at Balam, who merely looked resigned.

"We'll see," he said. "I'll miss the quiet of the rookery."

"What about your babysitter?" Saul teased, to break up the mild tension, but Pharot surprised him by laughing.

"Master Farem will have me in the City before long," the apprentice replied. "He wants me to teach a seminar for my year-group. I'm baffled at how he thinks I'm a good teacher--"

"No," Ixchel replied, looking delighted. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Pharot. You're splendidly patient with Kaak and you can see how best to illustrate a concept to a student. I think you'd be an excellent instructor."

Into the awkward silence, as Pharot stuffed a tortilla into his mouth and a blush crept up his cheeks, Saul tried not to feel abandoned.

"I guess I'm the odd one out," he said.

"Nonsense." Ixchel sipped her wine and gave him a warm, suggestive smile. "You never know. Maybe Tarmac wants a change of scenery."


End file.
